


Tall Bird

by kg348



Category: Gangster No. 1 (2000)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24072949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kg348/pseuds/kg348
Summary: Short bit rewriting "that" moment in the night club.
Relationships: Gangster/Karen





	Tall Bird

"Tall Bird"  
by kg348

‛Mind if I sit down?’  
He looked up sharply from the chateaubriand, which wasn’t half bad, to find one of the dancing birds was already seated in the empty chair next to him, pouring herself a glass. Tall, skinny, golden... she was the best-looking one in the place, though he hadn’t seen her on the stage at all. Freddie must have got them to send the best one over to him.  
‛Suit yourself,’ he shrugged casually. She was smiling vaguely.  
‛I heard you were well-mannered, Mr. Freddie Mays,’ she said, still pouring.   
He laughed inside. Clearly he looked the part. With Freddie in the bog, who’d know any different? He hardly paused to think about it. He’d have some fun with her for a minute.   
‛What makes you think I’m Freddie Mays?’   
Her eyes dropped to the tie-pin Freddie had given him in the car. ‛Women’s intuition,’ she said. ‛I also heard that you were quite the gentleman.’   
‛Did you now?’  
‛Yep. And that you were rich.’   
Of course. A fuckin’ gold digger. What a surprise. But he couldn’t resist playing along a bit with her mistaking him for Freddie, now. What would Freddie say to a cracking blonde like that...?   
‛‛They’ talk a lot, do they?’ he grinned. ‛All good, I ‛ope? Sorry, didn’t catch your name.’  
‛Karen,’ she said. He stopped cutting his steak and offered to shake hands. Her smile widened, her dark eyes glinted in the club lights.   
‛I didn’t see you up there yet, Karen,’ he said, nodding toward the stage. ‛They save the best for last in ‛ere?’  
She shook her head and looked around. ‛No, I just got in. I’m new.’  
‛New? You’re gonna blow their minds, darlin’. You know that?’  
‛Thank you. Appreciated.’  
He conjured her a winsome, boyish smile. Easy as pie. Could see her loosen up and relax a bit more. Push it a little further, eh?  
‛I think you could do better than this place, though,’ he added, fitting some steak carefully into his mouth. ‛You look like an actress or somethin’.’  
‛Oh yeah?’  
‛Yeah, really. Got the face for it.’  
She was getting slightly embarrassed now, but clearly enjoying it. ‛No, I just dance. And sing sometimes.’  
‛Close enough, ain’t it?’  
Freddie had come back with a dark-haired girl he’d seen on the stage earlier. She had her arm in his and she was looking happy as an old geezer who’d caught himself a big old fat canal trout. ‛Freddie, I want you to meet Karen,’ she said. ‛Karen, this is Mr. Freddie Mays.’  
Karen shot the younger man a surprised look, shook Freddie’s hand over the wine glasses.   
‛Mel, this is Chas,’ Freddie added. ‛Business associate of mine.’  
‛Chas,’ Karen echoed, her eyes sliding to the tie-pin again, but she said nothing about his little joke. She seemed more amused than put out. Chas smiled innocently and waited for the rest to sit down.  
So easy. Who couldn’t be Freddie Mays? he was thinking. All he needed was that two-piece mohair. The handmade shoes. The ruby cufflinks. The name. The reputation. Oh, but he’d do it better, too. Lennie Taylor would be shittin’ bricks, and Maxie would be shittin’ blood. Yeah, Freddie was too soft on ‛em all. Too nice. One day it’d catch up with him.   
There they were, the chatter all piss-about-nothing, Freddie in the little bird’s clutches stealing glances over the table at the tall one, Karen, from time to time, but Chas was between them. Freddie liked this tall one, he could tell... loved the tall skinny birds, Freddie did. And she was quite the looker, to be fair. But there was Mel, in the way. Poor little mare could tell, too. She had it bad for Freddie, and he was all eyes for her leggy friend.   
Chas lit a cigarette, blowed on the glowing tip to keep himself from laughing at it all. Oh, Freddy, Freddy, Freddy... better get a move on, son. If you ain’t gonna ask her, I will. Take the best bird in the place right out from under your nose, just to see if I can.   
A song ended, and Chas rested his cigarette half-smoked on the silver ashtray in the middle of the table. Turning to Karen, he straight up asked her to dance the next one with him. She had no objections. Freddy watched them rise from the table.  
As they wove to the dance floor to take a spot, she whispered in Chas’ ear. ‛Your boss better watch out for you, ‛Mister Mays’.’  
‛You like him, then?’ he asked conversationally.   
‛Seems like a nice guy. For a gangster.’  
‛So am I.’  
‛I thought you were a ‛business associate’,’ she teased.  
He smiled to the eye teeth, looked her up and down. ‛Know a lot of gangsters, do you?’   
Something changed in her eyes. Swam there. A hint of curiosity, maybe.  
‛No. But they’re only human, I suppose.’  
A slow song began; he pulled her in close, and every so often cast a glance back at the table where Freddy and the little bird sat talking. Freddy glanced up several times at Karen, finished one cigar and lit another, a strained, distracted look clouding his face over the small talk, and Chas felt an equally strange, delicious pleasure rising in his guts at the sight of it.   
Oh dear, Freddy. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.


End file.
